For Hard It Is To Keep From

It Is Absurd To Think That The Only Way To Tell If A Poem Is Lasting Is To Wait And See If It Lasts. The Right Reader Of A Good Poem Can Tell The Moment It Strikes Him That He Has Taken An Immortal Wound-that He Will Never Get Over It.

We Dance Round In A Ring And Suppose, But The Secret Sits In The Middle And Knows.

Haven't You Heard, Though, About The Ships Where War Has Found Them Out At Sea, About The Towns Where War Has Come Through Opening Clouds At Night With Droning Speed Further O'erhead Than All But Stars And Angels And Children In The Ships And In The Towns?

Let Those Possess The Land, And Only Those, Who Love It With A Love So Strong And Stupid That They May Be Abused And Taken Advantage Of And Made Fun Of By Business, Law, And Art.

The Sister's Face Fell All In Wrinkles Of Responsibility. She Wanted To Do Right. She'd Have To Think.